Strawberry Avalanche
by Rhoswen Eolande
Summary: A female Ichigo is better at making and bringing in friends from all sorts of different walks of life. This starts to change things in little ways, but those ways will eventually change the entire course of the story. Told in short little chappies. WIP. FemIchigo. Not a songfic.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"This is a world of dreams and reverie

"Where I felt the stars explode around me."

Those are the lyrics of a song my father used to sing for me when I was little. It's called "Strawberry Avalanche" by Owl City, and that's what he called me - his strawberry avalanche. In the song, the singer talks about suffocating, drowning, underneath a sea of citrus delight.

It's a weird song, but all of Owl City's songs are, and so are all of my father's.

My Dad, Isshin Kurosaki, sang me that song because that's what my name means. "Ichigo" means "strawberry." And he claims I'm like an avalanche.

"You just hit somebody all at once and that's it for them," he would joke.

I would roll my eyes.

I never thought the song would actually apply meaningfully to my life in any way. But the story I am about to tell you was a lot like that. It was a kind of fever dream, abrupt and amazing, full of excitement and exploding stars. And in the end, I suppose I became a sort of avalanche to a lot of people.

Or rather, unbeknownst to myself, I was always an avalanche. All mountain gatherings of snow and ice are just avalanches waiting to explode.

I was waiting. For fifteen years, I was waiting.

It was never meant to last.

* * *

"You said they come at seven, right?" I asked with casual curiosity, walking down the Karakura High School hallway in my school uniform. It was two-thirty; school had just been let out. "Every night?"

"That's right." The floating, transparent ghost of the little girl held up her wristwatch. She wore the same clothes she'd died in - cargo shorts, a striped tank top, a pink Barbie wristwatch, and pigtails. A long chain hung slinking from her chest. "Seven o'clock, every night."

"What exactly do they _do_?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, hands on my hips. "What about their presence is so horrible?"

"They're loud and drunk, they smash things and leave graffiti… They're just horrible!" The little girl shook her head, eyes squeezed shut. "They were messing around on their skateboards and they ruined the offering of flowers my classmates left for me at the…" She hesitated.

"At the place you died," I provided mercilessly. The little girl winced. "So you can't find peace until I find a way to make them leave for good."

"Can you do it?" she asked uncertainly.

I sighed idly. "Oh ye of little faith," I said, waving a hand. "It's irritating, but I suppose I can make it tonight."

The little girl brightened.

"Now come on." I walked off, hips swaying. My long legs strutted underneath the short skirt of my uniform, tight ass bouncing. I looked good and I knew it.

"Er - where are you going?" She stared after me, puzzled and worried.

"I have karate and kendo club meetings. You said it's not till seven, right?" I said over my shoulder. "Just follow me, and keep quiet. I'm sick of looking like I'm talking to myself."

The little girl scampered after me.

I wasn't sure how they all found me. They said they "felt" me. I had no idea what that meant. They said I felt "safe." And the more of them I helped, the more of them found me. It was cyclical.

It was also a lot of pressure. I didn't think of myself as a particularly heroic person, yet I found myself incapable of turning away people who needed my help. I was trying to just live my life, be ordinary, and it wasn't working out all that well. I had never been allowed to be normal. Death followed me.

Little kids used to say I could see dead people - claimed I talked to those who weren't really there. My best friend Tatsuki had to defend me from a lot of bullies, till I got strong enough to defend myself. That was just the beginning.

My father was a doctor. His hospital clinic took up the bottom and front part of our house. I helped him with simple nursing duties. The first time I ever saw someone die, I was seven. I watched an old man seize from a heart attack, and then slump over in the white hospital bed, his eyes going glassy toward the ceiling. I looked up - and he was standing in a corner across the hospital room. Staring at me, chain hanging.

I wasn't good enough, back then, to see the differences between the living and the dead.

I thought maybe that was why I could see the dead - because I'd grown up around death. My little sisters could also see ghosts, but no one else could, which furthered my theory. Not all people became ghosts - my mother, for example, hadn't. Only the ones with a tie left to earth stayed behind. In this little girl's case, I was guessing it was fear. She was afraid to pass on. Bringing her peace was only half the battle, yet it was also the only part I could do for her.

I pulled out my cell phone and made a call. "Yuzu?" I said. "I'll be home late for dinner tonight. Dead people stuff. I'm telling you, not Dad, because apparently I'm 'drifting away from him'."

I could hear the smile in my little sister's voice. "Well, you _have_ been busier lately," she said. "But I understand. I'll tell Dad and Karin. We'll wait up for you."

"Thanks." I hung up.

As the eldest daughter, since my mother had died I'd taken up cooking and cleaning duty for the household. Dinner usually _started_ at seven.

I curled up beside the locker rooms, waiting for the others to arrive, and I took out a big, dog-eared old book to read. Poetry - Maya Angelou. I loved poetry, theater, and music. I wrote poems and plays for myself, and I had taken lessons in the guitar. (I was currently learning Paramore's "Ignorance.")

"No horror today?"

I looked up. Standing there, smiling, was the ghost of a tall, dark-haired young man.

"Relax, the apocalypse has not yet come," I said dryly, pulling out _Dracula, Frankenstein_ , and a Stephen King novel. Then, for good measure, I pulled out the bottle of hot sauce that always went beside my horror paraphernalia. "Sora. How are you?"

"Not bad," he said. "Yourself?"

"Helping out another ghost." I stood and pointed to the little girl. "Keep her occupied till tonight, will you?"

Sora bent down and smiled into the little girl's face. "Hello," he said.

"This is Sora," I said to her confused expression. "He's a friend. He helps me out."

"Then why haven't you helped him pass on yet?" the little girl wondered, frowning.

Sora and I shared a look. "Because Sora has a problem I can't help with," I said.

"What is it -?" the little girl began, and then I looked up, smiling. My living friends, Tatsuki and Orihime, had arrived.

"Ichigo-chan, what are you doing?" Orihime asked.

 _Talking to your dead older brother._

"Hallucinating vividly in front of a dead tattooed tree." They stared at me. I held up a book. "Otherwise known as reading."

"That's metal as fuck," said Tatsuki, impressed. "But your teachers are the ones who need you in front of books, Ichigo. I need you out on the mat."

I went into the locker rooms and slid my tall, slim, willowy body out of my uniform, perky breasts bouncing. I got on my sports bra and karate uniform, took the wood hairclip out of my messy copper colored hair and let it fall loose around me. Then I gathered it all up and pinned it in a messy bun. I took out my fang earrings, and applied a fresh coat of flame red lipstick in front of the locker mirror.

"What?" I said at Tatsuki's stare. "Just because I'm going out there to kick somebody's ass doesn't mean I can't look good doing it."

Tatsuki laughed and shook her head, getting into her own uniform. "I would protest, but your competition performance speaks for itself," she said. "Come on. It's time."

We walked out onto the mat in front of the assembled karate students. "Alright, brats, listen up!" Tatsuki clapped her hands. She was a skinny, boyish girl with a messy, shaggy, punk pixie cut of black hair, tomboyish clothes, and way too much eyeliner. "We have a new student joining us today, and -"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! This club is led by a couple of _girls_?"

Tatsuki sighed, smirking. "And there he is," she said wryly. Everyone began stepping away from the new guy, careful not to make any sudden moves in case me or Tatsuki suddenly decided to knock somebody's head off.

"What do two _girls_ know about fighting?" he sneered. "I mean, look at that girl." He pointed at me. "I can smell her perfume from all the way over here!" It was a peppery, orange blossomy perfume called Black Opium, a fearful telltale sign of my coming presence because I didn't need to be underhanded or hide.

I shared a look with Orihime. She wasn't a member of the club, but she was smiling dimpled from the corner, arms crossed underneath her voluptuous breasts, changed back into a long flower print skirt that flowed around her generous curves and her little girl's twin star hair barrettes. Unbeknownst to her, the two ghosts were floating beside her, her dead brother also smiling secretively.

I sighed and stepped forward. "Okay," I said, lifting my chin in a challenge. "How about this? We have a spar, and if I lose, you get to lead the club instead of me."

"Ha! Great!" The boy brightened in glee. "I'll warn you, I'm very good. I totally deserve to lead this club. And I do hate making girls cry."

Snickers filled the room. The poor sucker probably thought they were in support of him. I smirked viciously. Had him.

Unlike this asshole, I _loved_ making people cry.

We faced each other on the mat, everyone else in a big circle around us. Countless guys, many of whom had gotten this treatment in the past, had eager, shit-eating grins on their faces. Tatsuki wasn't worried - she knew I could handle it.

She may be the main head, but I was the only one in the club who could beat her.

The guy paused - and then made a sudden move to dart toward me. In a spurt of speed, I smashed right through his guard and he fell to the ground unconscious in a single punch.

I grabbed my water bottle, walked over, and dumped it on his head. He spat and sputtered, waking up and looking dazedly up at me with a bloody nose. "Hey, asshole," I said flatly. "You lost."

The snickers loudened as I walked away.

The guy was much quieter for the rest of karate club, and then when he entered kendo club an hour later he saw me standing at the front of the room once more, in uniform, next to an older scowling ponytailed girl named Mizuho.

He swallowed as I smirked viciously, walking over to spar with him.

* * *

I spent an hour doing homework in the library and then walked off campus with my friends at the end of the day. Michiru and Mahana had just come from crafts club, Chizuru from feminist and gay rights societies, Ryou from track and book club, Orihime from student health counseling, Tatsuki from the student disciplinary committee. Keigo and Mizuiro had signed up for everything, and Chad was a part of nature club.

"Still up for music lessons on Friday?" I asked Chad. He played bass to my guitar, and unlike me, he was actually in a band.

"Affirmative," said Chad stoically. He was a big hulking tattooed half-Mexican guy.

"Ichigo, let's make violent love together!" Keigo threw himself at me, and my fist met his face.

"No," I said flatly.

"Keigo, you should just be like me and adore Hime-chan!" Chizuru clung to a sweet but bewildered Orihime's arm. "Sorry, Ichigo, but you're flat as a board."

"Fuck you, I know I look good," I said casually. "Keigo, just be like Mizuiro. Flirt with teachers and older women."

"Exactly," said Mizuiro, smiling sweetly with sharp eyes. "The difference between you and me, Keigo, is that I _know_ I'm way out of Ichigo's league."

"You guys are the worst friends ever," Keigo moaned.

"And you're a perv, little brother," said Mizuho. "You've stuck your hand up Ichigo's skirt three times in the last month."

"And I've had to beat the shit out of you - all three times," Tatsuki growled.

"You guys keep track of stuff like that?" Keigo wondered.

"At least he's not Ooshima, the big harassing bully." Michiru shuddered. "He gives me the creeps."

Ryou smirked, her eyes their usual dead. "I bet he has a tiny dick."

Mahana laughed. "Oh, I can so see it!"

"It _would_ explain what he's compensating for," I admitted, languid and amused. "But I'm not worried about Ooshima. I could take him." I grinned.

The two ghosts were walking behind us, Sora amused - he was used to this kind of talk. "Hey, guys, I have to go this way." I pointed in the direction of the little girl's back alley. "Gotta pick something up before I get home. See you guys later."

As my friends called farewells after me, I walked off, the little girl running behind me. Sora raised his hand after us in a silent wave before following Orihime.

"Okay," I said, deadly serious, as we walked toward the alleyway. "Let's do this."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

I found the skateboarders in the alleyway, messing around and chuckling stupidly, the smell of pot lingering in the air. The vase of flowers lay off to the side, chipped and broken, glass fragments littering the asphalt, petals drowning in their own water. It was sunset, the alleyway turning into shadows.

I ran over and knelt before the vase of flowers, pretending to cry into my hands. "Oh no! Oh no!" I cried in a high, shrill, nauseating voice.

The suckers fell for it hook, line, and sinker. They paused on their skateboards and ran over to lean around me. "Hey, baby, don't cry -" One of them reached for me.

Suddenly, I whirled around and kicked two in the face, revealing that I hadn't been crying at all. They fell to the ground, unconscious. I jumped to my feet as the other three backed up uncertainly.

"What's that you called me?" I asked mockingly, walking forward. "Baby, huh? Is that what I am? Your baby?"

"H-hey - w-we were just -"

"You want to be careful what you call people. They could take offense," I said sarcastically, cold. "Did either of those two assholes smash that offering for a dead girl?" I pointed behind me.

Slowly, they shook their heads.

"Oh, good, then it was one of you. Raise your hand and volunteer if you're the one who smashed into the offering." I smirked, my voice playfully high. "And then I promise to leave your friends alone and only beat the shit out of _you_. If nobody volunteers, however, I'll have to beat the shit out of everybody. Just to be safe."

None of them volunteered, but I saw one guy get twitchy. His friends glanced at him sideways. It was probably him.

"Hey, we weren't trying to hurt anybody!" he cried, his voice getting high. "We were just playing around -!"

"All three it is, then," I muttered, and in a flash of speed I was in front of them, taking on all three at once. I beat them easily. That sounds amazing, but keep in mind they were high and probably not all that good at fighting in the first place. Once they were down on the ground, bruised and bloody and in various states of pain, I walked over and put my foot on the twitchy guy's throat, pressing downward. He began choking.

"Any of you come here again and people will be bringing you flowers," I growled. I had a bit of a temper problem, especially when it came to little kids and messing with offerings for the dead. But I had an honor system: I fought people upfront, and only if they could fight back.

This guy had every chance to beat me. He just hadn't been able to do it.

"Alright - alright -" he hissed out, his face turning red, then purple. I lifted my foot, and he gasped in sharp, relieved breaths.

"Jesus - that woman's fucking insane -" I heard one of the remaining idiots mutter to the other.

"That's right, completely psycho!" I whirled around, smiling brightly. Then my face turned deadly. "And I don't take kindly to people disturbing the peace of dead little kids. Get my gist?"

"W-we're sorry - we're sorry -" They stumbled to their feet and ran away.

"Well, I scared them. They probably won't be back." I stared after them, my eyes losing their crazy glint and my face turning thoughtful. The little girl floated up next to me. "How about this? I'll bring you fresh flowers tomorrow, and I'll clean that broken vase up."

"Alright. Thank you. Now I can rest peacefully." The little girl smiled up at me, her eyes gleaming with admiration.

I sighed. "No problem," I said. "Don't get all gooey-eyed, and don't mention it. And pass on already, will ya? You can't hang around here forever, you know."

She looked sheepish, fading a little, nodding.

"Why don't you ever tell that to your friend Sora?" she called after me as I walked away.

I snorted. "What makes you think I haven't already?" I asked rhetorically.

* * *

I walked up to the building reading _Kurosaki Hospital Clinic_ , and around the building to the back door. I slid off my shoes and entered the big family room and kitchen behind the hospital.

"I'm home!" I called.

"Thank God, I'm starving, kitchen slave!" Karin, a girl with short black hair and pale sharp features in shorts and a T shirt, called from the sofa.

"What's that you said, Karin? You're okay with making dinner for yourself?" I stuck my finger in my ear and rubbed, pretending I needed to hear better.

"Nothing, never mind!" Karin called, a clear note of panic in her voice.

"I chopped all the ingredients for you!" Yuzu, a girl with a bob of cinnamon brown hair and a sweet face in a beautiful summer dress, called helpfully from the kitchen.

"Thanks, Yuzu," I said, coming into the kitchen.

"My sweet, rebellious daughter Ichigo, home at last!" my father cried dramatically, engulfing me from behind in a giant hug. He was even taller than me, with broad shoulders and arms and a black beard that tickled my chin. I curled up like a cat who didn't want to be touched, my face deadpan, resisting an act of violence.

"Don't touch me," I said, pushing him away and shrugging neatly out of his grasp.

"Ah, to be a teenager again. I know you really like my hugs, Ichigo," he said smugly.

"I like them about as much as I like having a curfew or seeing ghosts," I said flatly. "In other words, not at all."

"Speaking of which, Ichi-nee, you've got a new one haunting you," said Karin casually.

I whirled around. Standing there was the ghost of an older man with square glasses in a business suit and tie. "Goddamnit!" I shouted, throwing the spoon down I'd been using to stir the vegetable stew. "Could you all just leave me alone for two fucking seconds?! Huh?! Is that possible?!"

"Poor Ichi-nee. She's so popular," Karin sighed.

"But I think she's kind of lucky," said Yuzu brightly. "I can barely sense ghosts at all. I'd love to be able to see like Nee-chan."

"Not me. I don't believe in ghosts," Karin declared.

"Huh? But you can see them too, Karin-chan." Yuzu frowned, puzzled. "Only Daddy can't sense them at all."

"I'm in a state of permanent denial," Karin declared, leaning bored back on the couch and going back to the TV. "If I refuse to believe in them, it's like they don't exist. Ichi-nee should give it a try; it works wonders."

"I still think you should stop complaining," my father told me, amused. "What you can do really is incredible."

"Yeah, well, you're not the one who has traffic coming through her house, school, and bedroom every two fucking hours," I said flatly, going back to the stew. "I have school, extracurriculars, nursing, cooking, and cleaning to do as it is. And _apparently_ , I have to have it all finished by 9 PM. Without allowance."

I glared at him meaningfully. This was his rule. He remained unrepentant.

"And yet somehow you manage to get it all done," he maintained, raising an eyebrow. "Excellent grades, head of two different fight clubs, nursing every weekend and non busy afternoon, spotless house, excellent meals. If you didn't swear and shout and complain so much and threaten such wanton violence, I'd call you perfect."

"Yeah, well, my grades have been slipping lately," I muttered. "I'm down into place fifteen in my class. I used to be in the top ten."

"Oh, God, number fifteen out of a hundred students. That's horrible," said my Dad sourly.

"Dad, you know what I want to do!" I snapped. "I want to study Literature as an undergraduate, then go to law school and study to become a lawyer for the disabled! My grades have to be spotless!"

"Besides, more ghosts than ever have been haunting Ichi-nee," said Yuzu stoutly. "It's a lot of pressure."

"Yeah, she actually has been seeing more of them lately," Karin admitted.

"What? She talks about stuff like that with you two?" my Dad yelped. I stared sullenly down at the spices I was putting into the stew as he turned to me with big, injured eyes. "Ichigo, you used to come to me with your problems."

"Yeah, when she had the maturity of a small child," Karin sniped from the couch. "Then she was right at your level."

Dad went running to the memorial of Mom. "Masaki! Maybe it's because they've hit puberty, but our daughters treat me like dirt! What should I do?" he wailed. Kind of in the process proving Karin's point.

"Dad, you're a child at heart and you need to get over that," I said flatly, walking over to him. "You walk by the graveyard whistling. You're also pretty bizarre. Mom knew it and she married you anyway. If she could deal with you, so can we.

"Now come on," I said in the same flat voice, walking back to the kitchen. "Dinner's ready."

My Dad stood up eagerly. "Oh my sweet daughter Ichigo, I knew you secretly -!"

"Dad. Don't make me punch you."

But I knew I'd made him feel better, nonetheless.

* * *

The next morning, I was up making breakfast and bento lunches before everybody else in the house. Breakfast was the same every morning - sweet natto, a piece of fruit, and a cup of green tea. The little girl's vase of flowers was ready on the kitchen counter.

Dad came out in a suit and tie, carrying a roller suitcase. "Conference," he said at my surprised stare. "Take care of your sisters while I'm gone, okay?"

"Roger that." I saluted.

He made sure he was out of the house and all the neighbors could hear before he shouted embarrassingly, "I LOVE YOU!"

"Goddamnit, Dad!" I swore. Then I leaned over and laughed at last, abrasive, surprised, reluctant. "Love you too," I told him, grinning.

He smiled, wriggled his eyebrows, and left.

Karin came out first, playing on her Gameboy. "Damn! I can't get past level seven!" she swore, sitting down at the table. I walked over to check what game she was playing.

"Use the sword and aim for the stomach area," I said matter of factly, going back to what I'd been doing.

Karin looked up in surprise. "Wha -?"

"Just trust me."

She tried it. "... Hey, thanks!" She smiled, brightening.

I gave her a teasing grin. "See?" My amber brown eyes glinted.

Yuzu came out next. "Where's Dad?" she wondered, looking around.

"He's gone to a conference, won't be home tonight," I said. "He put me in charge. Watch me abuse my newfound power." I raised my eyebrows.

Yuzu sighed. "Oh, great."

Karin had turned off her gameboy and turned on the TV across the room to the morning news. The newscast showed a street in Karakura, torn to pieces by some great explosion. I paused, listening in concern to the newscaster.

"The explosion happened today around 7:30 AM, with no apparent cause! The ground shook and many buildings were suddenly torn to pieces! No one was has been killed or even seriously injured, but if you use Karakura Station to commute, you'd better find another way to get to work today, folks! Investigators are currently looking into -!"

"What's wrong, Nee-chan?" Yuzu looked in concern at my sobered expression. I had never been a very good liar - it was always either sunshine or thunderbolts with me. Hiding my feelings was not my forte.

"That's close to here," was all I said. "So be careful."

 _I_ told _them_ to be careful. I'm pretty sure that's called irony.

* * *

I walked to the little girl's alleyway with the vase full of flowers, but she wasn't there.

"Hey!" I called, puzzled, looking around the empty alleyway. "Geez, I tell her I'll be around and then she doesn't -"

Suddenly, I heard a scream - the little girl's - followed by a high pitched, howling roar. I ran out into the street beyond.

Just then, the ground shook and the bottom floor of all the buildings was suddenly ripped to pieces in a great explosion. I ducked, covering my head and neck with my arms, ears ringing. I stood up to find a great cloud of smoke, Karakura citizens screaming and running in all different directions.

"Nee-chan!" the little girl's voice called. I ran toward that voice - and saw her. She was being chased, but not by another ghost. By a monster. It was the size of a large building, shaped like a giant insect but with a white skull mask for a face. It looked like some sort of Shinto spirit straight out of a Ghibli movie - only in person, especially with its humongous size, it was much more frightening.

"Nee-chan, what is that thing?!" said the little girl, distressed, reaching me. "It can see me!"

"It can _see_ you -?" The monster was crawling toward us fast. "I don't know, I don't what it is. RUN!"

We ran down the street away from the monster - but then the little girl stumbled, tripping and falling on her face. "Damnit!" I swore. This was no time for clumsiness - but though it was probably suicidal, I ran back to get her anyway. "Come on, stand up, stand up!" I pleaded with her.

The monster had reached us, its shadow looming over us. I stared up into the dark, glinting eyes behind the mask - ran in front of the little girl so I would get killed first - saw its maw open up to swallow me whole - thought I was seeing my end -

Then someone leaped in front of me. She looked like a samurai - black robes, white sash and under-robe. She even wielded a katana sword. She was small, slim, and delicate, with shoulder length black hair and violet eyes. Her face was carved ivory, expressionless.

She blocked the monster from eating me with her sword - it retreated - she leaped up supernaturally high, cut her sword through its head and down through its body, landed on the ground. As she cut it, it dissolved into the air, and was gone. Calmly, the samurai girl sheathed her sword.

"H-hey!" I called after her, but she'd already disappeared. One second she was there, the next - gone. Gone with the monster.

I heard people in the street behind me. "Another explosion!" "What could have caused it?"

They hadn't seen the monster or the girl. The monster who could see ghosts. The monster that might have been a spirit - had it not proven itself capable of touching living world objects.

I turned to share mystified looks with the ghost of the little girl. Supernatural samurai and invisible bug monsters.

What the hell?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

I was on my bed after dinner that night, my chin on my knees and my arms curled around my legs in the dark. I stared at the far wall. I couldn't figure it out. That girl and that monster… who had they been?

I was a hardened skeptic. I didn't believe in God, or tarot, or astrology, or anything that I couldn't see for myself. I could see for myself that people died, and passed on, perhaps went to an afterlife, perhaps were reincarnated. But that was the most incredible thing I believed. I didn't believe in anything I couldn't experience for myself.

And I was used to having all the answers. It was a burden, but I had just realized it was also a gift I wasn't aware I possessed until it disappeared.

I didn't like… not knowing.

Just then, a black butterfly fluttered straight through my closed bedroom window. I looked up and around - and the samurai girl stepped right through my bedroom wall, floating gently down to land on the ground. She didn't look at me, instead staring straight ahead of herself.

I backed up on my bed. "Hey! Who are you?" I barked.

Her hand went for her sword. She still didn't look at me.

"Oi! You pull that thing out in front of me and I have every right to kick your ass!" I was more frightened than I let on.

"... It's close," she murmured, still staring off into space, as if concentrating on something.

Fed up, I leaped upward and kicked her in the back. She skidded across the room.

Oh, cool. So, like with ghosts, I could touch her.

As she came to a sliding land against the closet, I clicked on the bedroom light. The light revealed a messy bed with a red checkered blanket, a nightstand with a book, a meditative CD, and a chocolate bar on top of it because I liked snacking in bed and I had a weakness for chocolate, a dresser stuffed with clothes and covered in makeup and perfume bottles, and a vast desk covered in messy sheets of homework, doodles, and poetry. Bookshelves full of books, movies, and music lined the walls. My guitar leaned in a corner.

"Hi," I said, coming to stand in front of her, hands on my hips. "You're paying attention to me now. I have a few questions. First: Are you a burglar? Because if you are, you're not a very good one. What's close? The safe? Rule number one when you're trying to sneak in somewhere: don't talk to yourself. Rule number two: don't sneak in through a room actually inhabited by a person.

"And if you're not a burglar, just who the hell are you? Who in the ever loving fuck just breaks into somebody's home and then ignores the person who owns the home when they start yelling at them?"

I glared at her, waiting for her to answer.

She was still just lying there in shock. She gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish's. "Y… you can see me? And… touch me?"

"Well, let me see, maybe it was just a fluke." I walked up to her and kicked her in the shin.

"Ow!"

"Nope, I can definitely touch you," I said, mock thoughtful.

"That's strange." She stood, grabbing my chin, tilting my head this way and that. She had to stand on her toes even to reach my head. "You should not be able to see me," she murmured, confused. "You must be defective in some way."

"I'll show you defective!" I swatted her hand away, glaring.

"You're the girl from the street today, aren't you? The one who ran in front of the ghost of the little girl?" She frowned thoughtfully.

"Nothing gets past you, does it?" I said flatly, sarcastic. "Look, who the hell did you think I was talking to a minute ago, anyway?"

"Well… usually when a human talks to themselves, they're either deep in thought or insane." The samurai girl shrugged. "That's what I thought you were."

"Look, I'm not exactly hellfire certain of your sanity either. You do realize nobody's dressed like that in several hundred years, right?"

She stiffened. "This is proper Shinigami dress."

"That doesn't make it pretty," I shot off on instinct.

"It does not have to be pretty, it has to be functional and -" Now she was getting indignant, and I grinned because that was what I'd hoped for. Then something she'd said registered.

"Wait a minute… Shinigami? As in… ferries dead souls to the afterlife Shinigami?" I blinked, puzzled.

She sobered. "That is correct," she said, lifting her chin. "I am a Shinigami."

"And I'm Santa Claus."

She scowled. "I'm serious!"

"So am I," I said with a straight face. "Since apparently it's supernatural being confession time, it's time I came clean: I'm secretly Santa Claus."

"You are infuriating to have a conversation with!" she snapped, reddening.

"Thank you," I said. "Let me tell you, that's a huge load off my shoulders. It's kind of hard pretending to be a teenage girl when you're secretly a gigantic old bearded guy."

"There's no such thing as Santa Claus!"

"Silence, nonbeliever!"

"I'm leaving!" The samurai girl made to storm away.

"Wait, I haven't given you your Christmas present yet!" I called after her.

"Fuck you!"

"Hey, if you get to say you don't believe in Santa Claus, I get to say I don't believe in Shinigami!" I called after her.

And she paused.

I smirked. "Shinigami are just as incredible-sounding as Santa Claus. Admit it."

"Maybe to someone who can't see the dead." She turned back to glare at me sourly. "For you, believing in beings who exist to _ferry_ the dead shouldn't be a problem."

"Look, I believe in logic," I said, scowling. "And logically, if I've seen ghosts all my life, shouldn't I always have been able to see Shinigami as well? Why are you the first one?"

"Because you have to have a lot of spirit energy to see Hollow monsters and Shinigami," she said simply. "Have your powers grown as you've gotten older?"

"... Yeah," I admitted suspiciously. "As I come into contact with more ghosts, I can see better, and more of them find me. But that's an awfully convenient excuse."

She looked beside me. "Then maybe this will convince you," she said. She unsheathed her sword - I made to dodge or guard - and she placed the hilt into something beside me. I looked over. It was the ghost of the old man.

"P-please…" he whispered. "No… I don't want to go to Hell…"

The Shinigami smiled. "What awaits you is not Hell. It is the Soul Society. Unlike Hell… it is a peaceful place."

She lifted the sword, revealing a glowing blue "RELEASED" stamp in its place. The man's soul dissolved into a blue dot, which was carried by a black butterfly up through the ceiling and beyond.

The Shinigami looked back at me dryly. "Convinced?"

"Uh… yeah," I admitted, eyebrows risen, staring upwards at the ceiling. "So… you destroy Hollow monsters and send ghosts on to the afterlife…"

"Essentially," the Shinigami agreed, nodding. "And the afterlife's proper name is technically the Soul Society. Hollow monsters try to eat souls both living and dead, hence why they must be destroyed."

"Is there such a thing as reincarnation?" I asked next.

"Yes," she said. "All life is cyclical."

"Except for if you're eaten by a Hollow," I clarified.

"If you're eaten by a Hollow, you have to wait for a Shinigami to destroy the Hollow and release all the souls within it."

"Right." I laughed hysterically, incredulous. "Of course. So… you guys really do exist, huh? Do you do everything with those swords of yours?"

"They're called zanpakutoh. And no. When fighting, we can also use kido - incantations and spells only a Shinigami can cast."

"Right. So… are you just born a Shinigami, then?" I asked, puzzled.

"No. Most of the afterlife is a series of peasant villages called the Rukongai. Dead souls are sent there. Shinigami are often recruited from the Rukongai, if they have spirit energy. But the majority of Shinigami come from Soul Society born nobility - new souls with spirit energy. All Shinigami live in the noble districts, and if they have families they start a new noble clan.

"Shinigami in training are sent to the Shino Academy. The typical training length is six years, which is nothing for a people who age only one year every ten, for a people who don't even need food except if they have spirit energy.

"Once Shinigami are finished training, they are recruited into one of the thirteen fighting divisions, according to specialization. They are sent on missions to guard certain districts in the Soul Society and the living world, and in the living world they also have to perform Konso on souls, sending them on to the Soul Society.

"Older, more powerful Shinigami and nobles are often recruited to Central 46, the council which rules the Soul Society.

"Get it?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," I said. "So… I have spirit energy?"

"Only a living soul with incredible spirit energy can see a Shinigami." She scowled. "Either that or I go back to my original theory - you are a defective soul."

"That's poetic."

"Shut up."

"No, really. I'm broken beauty. That's the highest compliment of my life."

"Definitely defective."

"Thanks."

The Shinigami growled and stamped her foot. "I don't have time for this!" she said. "I have to be searching! There is an incredible source of untapped energy somewhere around here and I haven't found it! Meanwhile, I've lost track of the Hollow I was chasing, which makes no sense because I know it's right nearby! It's strange, like some force is jamming my senses…"

She frowned.

"None of it makes any sense…" she murmured, falling into thought.

Suddenly, a high-pitched, howling roar met my ears. "Uh, Shinigami?" I said, falsely calm.

She lifted her head. "Yes?"

"You might want to just walk outside. I'm pretty sure the Hollow is right there."

She stared at me. "You can hear it?"

"You can't?"

There was a confused pause.

Then there was a screeching howl, the Shinigami at last gasped and whirled in that direction, followed by a shaking rumble and a scream. "Karin! Yuzu!" I screamed, running toward my bedroom door -

"Binding spell, the first! Sai!"

I felt my arms and legs spring together and I fell over flat on the floor. "What the hell are you doing?" I growled, struggling against invisible bindings. If this was that kido shit, it was a real bitch. "I have to save my little sisters!"

"You would only add to the body count!" The Shinigami stormed past me. "Keep quiet and leave this to m -"

She paused, stunned, outside the doorway, as if bowled over by some incredible force. "How did I not sense this until now -?" I heard her whisper.

"Nee-chan…" Yuzu's voice. She stumbled into the doorway and fell, bloody and injured. "Nee-chan…" she gasped out, seeing me. "It's got Karin-chan… Please… Save Karin-chan…"

She lifted a hand weakly toward me, then slumped over, unconscious.

" _Yuzu!"_ I screamed, going cold. I knew then: I had to get out there. I had to save Karin. Now.

"Stay there!" the Shinigami barked, running away down the staircase.

"Hey! Get back here! Unbind me! Damnit -" I forced myself to my feet, sort of by my head and sort of just by pure adrenaline, and, I'm not even kidding, I bunny-hopped all the way out of the room and down the stairs, crash landing at the bottom of the staircase.

It was hard, like something was trying to hold me back, but I mostly just ignored that force and everything turned out okay.

I forced myself to my feet again and hopped over, shoving myself purposefully into the Shinigami, who was standing on front of a hole in the living room wall with her sword raised.

"I told you that you would only get in the way!" she snapped. "How are you even moving under a kido spell anyway -?!"

But I'd looked forward - and seen what was going on. The kitchen table was destroyed, the kitchen a mess, a hole in the far wall leading out into the street. A big hulking humanoid Hollow monster with long, grabbing fingers and that same mask face held Karin up in one of its huge hands.

"Ichi-nee! Run!" she screamed, seeing me.

And I saw red. You could call me psycho, you could call me a bitch, you could make fun of me, hurt me, whatever - and people had.

But nobody - but _nobody_ \- fucked with my little sisters.

And then in a sharp burst of golden energy my bonds were freed. I could move again.

"Stop! If you force it, your soul will -!" the Shinigami had been calling. And then she fell silent in amazement.

I ran over to the kitchen, grabbed a huge kitchen knife, and sprinted forward toward the Hollow and my sister. The Shinigami could stand around gasping about how amazing things were all she wanted. I had saving to do.

"No! Don't do it!" I heard the Shinigami call after me, but fuck her, it wasn't like she was doing anything. I was tired of waiting around for her.

I swung the long knife around like a sword, making huge slices in the Hollow's hand as it reached out for me, dodging blows. It was faster than me, but also clumsier, I noted with distant calculation.

Then I jumped atop the hand and used it as a leaping off point to cut into the Hollow's other giant hand - the one holding Karin. Karin, unconscious by now, fell toward the ground. I cut through the Hollow's other hand as it reached for me, shot myself downward, caught my sister in my arms, and rolled, curling up on the ground around her in a defensive stance.

I stood, defending Karin, as the Hollow flew in for another attack - and the Shinigami appeared, making a large slice in his arm and landing in front of me. The Hollow retreated, howling and writhing.

"Took you long enough," I said flatly, but for once the Shinigami didn't take the bait.

"Now I understand," she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"The Hollow has not eaten either of your sisters' souls yet. You don't find that curious?"

I paused. "Well," I said, "now that you mention it…"

"I told you Hollows eat souls." Her back was still to me, straight and proud. "What I didn't tell you is that Hollows prefer souls with high levels of spirit energy. A soul that can see and touch Shinigami and Hollows, that can jam a Shinigami's senses and be felt all the way across their district, that can break through a top notch Shinigami binding spell… To a Hollow, that soul would be a feast."

I looked at her hard, slow realization coming to me. "So you're saying this is my fault?" My tone was biting. "That all these people and places are getting attacked because of _me_?"

"That's one way to look at it." And then the Shinigami gasped as I suddenly ran past her.

"Hey! Asshole! You want my soul? Then why don't you pick on somebody your own size and fight me for it?!" I snapped, eyes stony pieces of flint, lifting my arms wide.

The Hollow howled and flew toward me - I saw the back of its throat - heard a scream -

And then the Shinigami had jumped between us, taking the attack meant for me instead. The Hollow's teeth crunched around her form in a rush of blood. As I stared wordlessly, she pushed and pushed at it, until at last it spat her back out and retreated.

"I should have known… you would interfere again…" she whispered. "I know what you were trying to do. But know this. One soul is never enough for a Hollow. It would not be over if you gave up your soul."

She looked up at me calmly from the ground, her sword loose in her hand, her mangled body pooling blood.

"I - I'm sorry - I was just trying to - I've doomed us all, haven't I?" I realized, whispering. "You can't fight anymore."

The Shinigami stared at my stricken expression for a moment. "Do you want to save your sisters?" she asked at last.

"Yes!" I jumped at the chance. "Please! I'll do anything!"

She sat up with effort, hefting her sword out to me. "If I pierce you with my zanpakutoh, I can temporarily gift some of my powers to you. _You_ can become a Shinigami, and save all of us. I can't guarantee you will survive the transfer… But if you don't, well, what does it matter anyway?" she asked flatly.

"... Why are you doing this?" I asked at last. "Why are you doing all this for one human?"

She stared at me for a moment. I was totally lost. "I… once lost a very dear friend and comrade to a Hollow," she said. "His name was Kaien Shiba. You… you remind me of him, a little bit," she whispered softly. "Why are _you_ doing _this_?"

"... Because after my Mom died, I promised her grave I would protect my sisters," I admitted. "Give me the sword, Shinigami." I held out my hand, openly smiling warmly. "We'll try your plan."

The Shinigami girl at last cracked a smile. "Not 'Shinigami.' My name is Rukia Kuchiki," she said. "You can call me by my given name."

"Ichigo Kurosaki," I smiled back. "Nice to meet you."

She readied the sword over my heart. "Are you prepared?" she asked solemnly. The Hollow was coming to get us again.

"Don't I have to be?" I asked rhetorically.

"Good enough," she said, and pierced the sword through my chest.

* * *

I was standing atop a volcano, rivers of red lava pouring all around me. But for some reason, down the mountain, I saw a humble little traditional teahouse. I could see a woman moving around inside.

"Hey!" I called. "You have to get down from here! The volcano's about to blow!"

I didn't know how I knew this, but I did.

The woman came to the window. She was a pale, dark-haired woman in revealing dark clothing. She was beautiful, but she gave me a cold, vicious smile, revealing rotting teeth.

"I'm counting on it." Her arrogant, abrasive voice carried across to me, echoing.

Then piercings of dancing ice riddled the sky, traveling slowly, cautiously, down to us… I heard a high-pitched, shrieking laugh and then all of a sudden the volcano erupted outward, and geisha made of lava met the dancing ice inside the sky. They flooded the ice, which started melting, melting…

"What are you doing?! Stop!" I called, panicked. But the lava didn't stop, the woman's abrasive, arrogant laugh sounding across the landscape. The lava disappeared up far into the place in the sky where the ice had come from, melting everything in its wake, and then I woke up.

* * *

I was in a Shinigami's robes, wielding a sword in the shape of Rukia's zanpakutoh, but at least three times its size. The Hollow was in front of me.

I came back to myself. I had a mission to complete.

I flew toward the Hollow - I was faster now, cutting off its arm, then its leg when it moved to step toward me.

"This is for hurting my family, you fish-faced freak!" I shouted, cutting down through its head and dissolving it in one clean sword strike. The Hollow was gone.

I had done it. I had saved them.

Blood rushed pumping through my head and my ears and then I passed out.


End file.
